Fatigue

You who ebb

Into the consciousness of man

Luring him into your web

Using subtle means

To whip a mighty man

With sticks and rods

Yet the man doesn’t weep

To prove that he isn’t a wimp

Never the less

Even the mightiest of men

After being stinged by fatigue

Are conscripted to their beds

Until the war is over

Oh! Thou

Too mighty for an abstract

So much for the contract

‘Cos though you have your earnings

You still got the yearning

To get the antidote

To overcome the idiot

That has made himself the pilot

Of your affair afterwards….